


Kera

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 17:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Jim’s condition flares up.





	Kera

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“Captain?”

Jim scrunches his eyes tighter closed. He can hear his t’hy’la’s voice whispering across the bridge of his nose, can feel it rumbling beneath his skin—when they’re off duty, Spock often speaks to him as much through their connection as through words. But sometimes when Jim’s off duty, all he wants to do is _sleep_.

Spock informs him, “We have reached Tellar Prime.”

Jim peeks one eye open. He lets out a yawn, then asks, “Did the bridge call?”

“Not yet.”

“Then how do you know?”

“The planet has two moons. We will not be passing close enough to any others for it to effect your condition.”

_That_ has both of Jim’s eyes open. Spock’s still lying next to him, buried under the covers, but frowning in that way of his that speaks silent volumes. Jim dryly, hoarsely, repeats, “_My condition._”

Spock nods. “Evidently, the doctor’s conclusion that only Earth’s moon would effect you was incorrect.”

Jim digs one hand out of the blankets. He flexes his fingers, long and pointed, the claws curling over the dark fur that covers his skin. He opens his mouth wide, swallows down another yawn, and lets his tongue trace his teeth. He can feel the sharp canines that have grown in. He doesn’t need to lift his hand to check for longer ears—he’s already become aware of the tail draped over his leg.

He shuts his eyes and groans, berating himself for not considering this possibility. They’ll need to come up with some kind of cover story for the Tellarite conference—they won’t mind a werewolf visually, but when they discover it’s something that can spread, they won’t be pleased. At least Jim doesn’t have to worry about losing a partner over it—Spock looks as blessedly unperturbed as ever.

He asks, “Should I summon Dr. McCoy?”

Jim almost says no. He always winds up allergic to half the things that Bones gives him. And as far as he knows, Starfleet has no cure, so all Bones can really do is try to subvert the symptoms until they get far enough away from the nearest moon. But Jim has a starship to run and can’t go around scaring all his ensigns to death, so he begrudgingly nods. 

He watches Spock slide out of bed and pad over to the comm mounted on the wall. Jim pushes the covers down low enough to see that he’s ripped open his nightshirt again. He’ll have to Synthesize a wider uniform. The sound of Bones yawning filters through the room. 

Spock immediately tells him, “You are needed in our quarters, Doctor.”

_“What? Your personal quarters? Why?”_

Spock answers simply, “The full moon.”

Dr. McCoy sighs, _“Oh great. The hobgoblin and the werewolf, my favourite problem couple. I’ll be right there.”_

The comm cuts off. Bones hung up. He must be on his way. Spock glances towards the bed and lifts his brow. Jim fills in, “That was sarcasm.”

Spock answers, “Ah,” and starts getting changed.


End file.
